


Mexico '88

by Greenlikethesky



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, No Angst, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27347455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenlikethesky/pseuds/Greenlikethesky
Summary: Ayrton visits Alain's hotel room after the 1988 Mexican Grand Prix. Pure smut :)
Relationships: Alain Prost/Ayrton Senna
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Mexico '88

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. No disrespect is intended.
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2012.
> 
> Set in the same universe as my main Prost/Senna fic; Entre Nous (between us).

**_Mexican Grand Prix – Mexico City_ **

**_Senna 15, Prost 33_ **

_Alain wins his third race out of four. On the podium, Ayrton mutters to him that they should do what they did in Monaco after each race they win. Gerhard, on the other podium step, gives them a funny look. Alain tries to smile casually as he puts his arm around Ayrton._

  
*

  
The knock on Alain's hotel room door came as expected, and he opened it to Ayrton. Dressed in an ordinary white t-shirt and jeans, the Brazilian still managed to look remarkable.

They looked at each other from either side of the doorway, unsure for a moment. But, unlike in Monaco, there was no more build-up than that. Ayrton took a step forward, the door closing with a click behind him. They kissed.

Soft, slow at first, just lips brushing gently. Alain deepened it, slipping a hand around the back of Ayrton’s neck, fingers teasing into his hair. Ayrton opened his mouth slightly in response. Alain did the same, sliding his tongue against his teammate’s. He felt, rather than heard, Ayrton’s moan at that. Warm hands found their way under Alain’s shirt, holding firm against his waist. Ayrton stepped forward again, pushing Alain backwards. They stumbled together through the room until Alain was pressed against the wall next to the bed.  
  


Ayrton broke the kiss, but not by much.

'Hi.' He murmured, against Alain’s lips.  
  


'Hi.' Alain echoed, smiling. He leaned back slightly, resting his head against the wall, and Ayrton’s face came into focus. Alain could almost count the freckles on the bridge of his nose.  
  


Ayrton smiled back, biting his lip. His thumbs were tracing little circles on Alain’s waist. He tilted his head to one side, gazing out from under those eyelashes.

‘You won the race today.’

‘Yes. I remember.’ Alain smiled again.

‘I remember... what you said that means.’ Ayrton murmured, his voice very soft. He gazed at Alain a moment longer, and then sank down to his knees, trailing his fingertips from Alain’s sides and over his stomach as he did so, before hooking them in the waistband of his jeans.  
  


Alain couldn't suppress a startled laugh. 'It was just a joke.'  
  


Ayrton shrugged. He undid Alain's belt and fly with nimble fingers.

  
Alain had been half hard from the kiss when Ayrton dropped to his knees. He was fully hard by the time the warm wetness of Ayrton's mouth enveloped him.  
  


Ayrton moaned, the sound vibrating sensuously around Alain. His voice was muffled, of course. He looked up at Alain again, smiling with eyes only.  
  


Alain moaned gently in return, pressing his fingers against his lips. Ayrton's eyes left him, closing in concentration.  
  


Alain watched him, entranced. Ayrton's lips were meant for this, really. That pout, god. Alain would be lying if he said he hadn't imagined those lips wrapped around him once or twice (or indeed, most times he pleasured himself lately).  
  


Ayrton's head was moving faster now. He knew what he was doing; Alain was struggling to control himself. But he didn't want to finish like this, so soon. They had all night. A win must be celebrated properly, after all.

  
Alain threaded his fingers into Ayrton's hair, gently stopping his motion. Ayrton’s eyes flicked up, puzzled.  
  


'I want something else. The other thing.'  
  


Ayrton understood, after a moment, his eyes half-lidded with desire. They'd only done that once before, in Monaco. It had been over too soon.  
  


He pulled back, trailing his lips along Alain a final time, before removing himself. He settled back on his knees, smiling, lips glistening faintly.  
  


The sudden sensation of cold air almost made Alain reconsider, but leant forwards and tugged Ayrton to his feet. Alain pushed him toward the bed.  
  


Ayrton started to pull his t-shirt off, but Alain shook his head. 'Keep it on, it's sexy... Just for the first time.' He added, answering Ayrton's raised eyebrow.

He groped at the fly of Ayrton's jeans. They were undone, not quick enough, and Alain pushed them down to Ayrton's knees. Ayrton was trembling (but by the size of the bulge in his shorts Alain guessed it was more arousal than nerves).

  
'Turn around,' Alain murmured into his ear 'and lean forward for me'  
  


Ayrton did so, resting his hands out on the bed to support himself. Alain pulled his boxers down, and reached a hand around to give the Brazilian a few swift strokes, playfully. Ayrton was trembling even more.  
  


'Are you nervous?'  
  


A violent shake of the head. 'No. I want you.'  
  


Alain positioned himself behind. 'I was wondering... have you ever done this with anyone besides me?' He asked. Just the usual pre-sex talk. He was more than a little surprised when Ayrton nodded.

  
'Yes, sometimes. But I was always... I never took it before. Only from you. After Monaco.'  
  


Alain felt himself throb at those words. In truth, he'd only done this himself a handful of times.  
  


'Do you want me to take you again?' He said softly.  
  


'Yes.'  
  


Alain hesitated. 'Don’t you want me to use anything?' He was slick from Ayrton’s mouth earlier, but it would still be rough.  
  


Ayrton didn’t seem concerned. 'No, do it like it was last time. I want to feel you.' He was bucking his hips slightly now, backwards against Alain.

Alain bit his lip, and pushed himself inside.

They moaned, in unison. After a moment Alain pushed himself further, very slowly. Ayrton was mewling muffled encouragements, his face pressed against the bed.  
  


Then, inside completely. God, it was good. The sensation, the _friction_... it was almost too much. Alain couldn’t move for a moment.

‘You feel... incredible.’ He groaned. His voice did not sound like his own. ‘Ah, _god_.’  
  


He began to find a rhythm, moving gently. Ayrton exhaled, shakily, and began moving his hips, matching Alain.

Soon, Ayrton was pushing back against him with more force. The Brazilian looked over his shoulder.  
  


'You can be... rougher, this time. Please.'  
  


Alain did not have to be asked twice. His fingers curled around the sharp edges of Ayrton's hips, digging in. He moved faster, thrusting into Ayrton, who arched his back in appreciation.  
  


'You like it like this.' Alain breathed. It was not a question.  
  


Ayrton nodded. 'From you.' A pause. 'Sometimes... I think of you... like this.'  
  


'Why?' Alain moaned, knowing the answer.  
  


'To make myself... come.'  
  


'Ah, me too, me too.' Alain admitted, his head thrown back in pleasure. He was almost...  
He grabbed a fistful of Ayrton's hair and began to slam into him.  
  


'This is it.' He said, voice clipped.  
  


Ayrton's fingers clutched at the sheets, knuckles whitening. 'Alain. Ah, please, please please...' He was moaning, words incoherent.  
  


Alain reached with his free hand to help Ayrton to climax. He wrapped his fingers around Ayrton’s cock, matching his strokes to each thrust of his hips. After moments he felt the Brazilian shuddering under him. Ayrton cried out, first in Portuguese, and then Alain's name, repeating it as he came.  
  


Alain went over the edge at that, the sensation of his orgasm running along his nerves like fire, electricity, everything. He tried to say Ayrton's name, but all he managed was a long, low moan.

  
They collapsed forward onto the bed, breathing hard.

After some minutes, Alain was able to raise his head enough to press kisses against Ayrton's neck.  
  


'Ok?' He murmured.  
  


Ayrton nodded, lifting his head to rest it on his forearm. He closed his eyes.  
  


Alain laughed softly. 'Tired?'  
  


'Mm. Wake me up when you want to go again.'  
  


Alain pressed his lips to Ayrton's neck once more.  
  


'Ten minutes?'  
  


Ayrton, it seemed, was already asleep.

*

The second time they did not rush.  
  


Ayrton had fallen asleep, and Alain dozed too, curled beside him. He felt Ayrton stir after a while, whether minutes or hours he was unsure.

The Brazilian sat up, and scooted down to the foot of the bed. Alain watched lazily as he peeled off his t-shirt, darkened now with sweat, and unceremoniously used it to clean himself.

  
'I hope you don’t wear that when you go.' Alain said.

‘I’ll wear yours.’ Ayrton looked back at him, playful. 'Why, you want me to go?'  
  


'If you want.' Alain shrugged, putting his hands behind his head. 'I had my way with you.' He tried to look serious.  
  


'Oh? What about my way?' Ayrton crawled back up to him, as best he could with jeans around his ankles.  
  


Alain became aware that he was still very naked around his middle, jeans pushed down and t-shirt hitched up. He sat up too, moving back.  
  


'You don't get your way unless you win.'  
  


'I won the race before last.' Ayrton still approached.  
  


'You should have taken your opportunity then, then.'  
  


'Then then? Your English is so bad, you know.' Ayrton smirked. He climbed over, leaning above Alain, an arm either side of him.  
  


'Better than your French, I bet.' Alain pretended to push him away, but found his hands were instead wandering down Ayrton's chest, feeling properly now the tanned, warm skin, noticing the gold chain, the line of dark hair trailing from his belly-button, down and down. He smelled of sex and sweat, and Alain wanted him again.  
  


Ayrton raised his eyebrows. 'I know some French; _voulez vous couchez avec_ -'  
  


Alain interrupted, laughing. ' _Oui_ , of course. You know, you don't need to ask me.'

‘I wasn’t asking.’

‘Oh.’

They kissed again, lazy and unhurried this time. Their lips moved slowly, mouths open, tongues running slick against each other. Alain could have stayed like that for a long time.

Before long Ayrton’s hands were wandering. His fingers worked at Alain’s jeans, pushing them further down.  
  


He whispered ‘Take them off.' 

  
Alain laughed. 'You too, then.'

  
Ayrton didn’t reply, but rolled back off the bed, turning away from Alain. He pulled off his jeans, struggling them over his ankles. 

  
Alain did the same, throwing the jeans on the floor next to his t-shirt. Ayrton, still facing away, reached for the lights, but Alain stopped him, a hand on his shoulder.  
  


'No. Let me see you.'  
  


It was silly really. They'd seen the important stuff anyway; they'd had sex twice now. But there was something... different about looking properly, not just rushing touches in the dark.  
  


Ayrton turned to face him. His eyes were uncertain.  
  


Alain leaned back, letting his gaze explore every inch, greedily. Ayrton was blushing, actually blushing, but Alain did not laugh.  
  


'You know you're... beautiful.' Alain murmured. Ayrton’s blush intensified, but he smiled too. Alain moved forwards, pulled Ayrton forwards too, their skin warm where it met.  
  


Alain kissed him again, first his mouth and then all over; his chest, his hands, the tip of each finger. Ayrton groaned and tilted his head back when Alain kissed the side of his neck, and allowed Alain to push him down onto the bed once more.

Afterwards, Ayrton brushed the curls back from Alain’s forehead idly.

‘I think... I’m going to win the next race.’

Alain only smiled. ‘Not if I have my way.’

**Author's Note:**

> I never rewrite finished fic, so this is exactly the same as it was when first published. But jeez, eight years later I really would have given them some lube. Sorry guys.


End file.
